just enough
by kingofFevers
Summary: Venting your feelings while straddling on a cliff should not be what anyone should be doing as the mobs spawn, but that's where they found themselves, and honestly, that's the best that they could afford. (T - cynicism, depression, mentions of implied suicide)


She didn't know which, but either crickets or cicadas were crying in the distance, frogs were moaning in the rain-prone areas nearby, and far away, thunder rumbled. Directly in front of her, at the nameless town, people were beginning to settle back in their homes.

There was a whole world at her feet, unexplored, and yet so populated at the same time. There were people who were living and dying and breathing and feeling; animals who were running from danger and scouting for food; mobs that were beginning to poof into existence, armed and ready for mindless hunting. Trees existed and swayed in the wind, plants were growing, things were _alive_.

She could see all of it. She could walk there, wherever she wanted, and just observe and appreciate.

She could, if she wasn't already the "Hero-in-Residence" of a certain town. Hell, even if she weren't, she'd have probably locked herself in her room and stayed till she starved.

Life - she'd previously encountered people who always said that it was a blessing, and that everybody was alive for a reason, but what kind of a blessing was it when it was like _this_?

"Mind if I join you?"

Jesse didn't have to look to figure out who it was (the old man's raspy voice was very distinguishable), but she turned anyway. Just a few feet away from her stood Ivor, appearance disheveled as always, with his long hair tied in a messy tail, clothes wrinkled, and his eyes red.

Not a good day for him, either, then.

"Hey Ivor," she said, her voice empty of any sort of emotion. The younger spawn shrugged as she turned back to the view. "Go ahead. I don't see why not."

The grass next to her shuffled as she made space for the man. Something behind her dropped to the ground, and then Ivor sat down beside her, shoe-less feet dangling over the edge next to hers.

The ground was a lethal drop below them, covered only by trees that have been growing well since the Witherstorm. A stream was flowing down the middle, surely leading to a larger body of water; it was the only nearby source of water for the plants. Far ahead of the regrowing forest and restored hills was civilization, living at the nameless town that Jesse had been leading ever since she'd become a "hero."

"How's life going for you?"

Ivor scoffed, "What do I have to say about it?"

The sky was purple - not the obnoxious kind that Hadrian liked to wear, that was _disgusting_ \- no, the sky was soft and easy on the eyes, blending beautifully with the orange clouds and sun, blues and blacks smudging the edges of their world.

It would be night soon.

"Is it 'okay?' 'Good?' 'Bad?'" He let out a breath, and Jesse didn't know if it was shaking because he might have a cold, or because of something else.

For his sake, she'll assume it was the cold.

"I don't know." He finally says. He shrugs and leans back, hands picking at the grass behind him. "It… It's happening. It exists."

A small smile tugged at Jesse's lips. She glanced fondly at the man before going back to the sky. "Yeah, I think I can get that."

"The same for you, today?"

She felt to laugh at the ridiculous statement. "It's the same for me _everyday_ ," Jesse ran a hand through her hair, accepting the scrunchie Ivor removed from his own and offered to her. She tied her hair back in a tight ponytail, unconsciously scratching at her scalp as she did so.

"Today was pretty productive, considering. I mean, it's comparatively better to yesterday. I didn't do anything but _sleep_ yesterday."

"I know. You only ate lunch."

"Yeah, but like," Jesse shook her head, "I still don't feel… fine."

Ivor hummed, a sort of nod of understanding.

Silence passed, then it was broken by the old man.

"You weren't planning on jumping," he asked, tentatively, "Were you?"

He turned his head to look at her, questioningly, crossing between being genuinely curious, and a little worried. The younger spawn's eyes carefully avoided his, instead focusing hard on something down below. Jesse opened her mouth to speak, but only shaky breaths came out. She was torn, between telling him or not saying anything at all. The girl clenched and unclenched her fists, tried to steady her trembling lip, jumping her leg on a broken twig sticking out of the cliff.

She finally managed a laugh. "If I had the guts to do it, maybe."

The girl denied hearing her voice wavering at all.

"Why?" She asked, and her head snapped in his direction, tilting so that her bangs fell to the side. She was getting dangerously close to falling.

"I was just curious."

Jesse resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Sure, if you say so."

The sun was beginning to set, further and further into the horizon.

Ivor looked up at the sunset, finally taking his eyes off the ground far below them. Then, he collected himself, and said rapidly, desperately against his horrid stutter and anxiety, "For your information, I wouldn't have stopped you."

"...Yeah?" Jesse, both to her own surprise and not, wasn't offput, "Why's that?"

He shrugged and kicked against the plants sticking out of the cliff, trying to collect himself once more. What he said next caught Jesse off guard.

"It isn't my right."

It was so matter of fact, as if he was commenting on the weather. As if it was common sense.

 _Of course it was,_ Jesse thought. It made sense to _her_ , at least.

"Because I know what it's like, being at that low point." He said, "Hope… it doesn't exist. You can't sleep, because there'll be nightmares. Because you'll wake up again, at some point. Everything will come back. Even when you have just a shred of happiness, it'll get ripped away sooner or later, right from under your nose." He took in a deep, ragged breath, and he shuddered. The laugh that escaped him was ironic and airy, "And even if it wasn't taken away from you, it still isn't.." He had to find the right words, "Enough."

There was a pause for his words to sink in, for him to catch his breath. "I hate to say it like that, but that's all it is. You'll still fall over. You'll still crumble."

His voice was rapid, and if it wasn't for the fact that Jesse knew exactly what was going on, she might not have been able to discern his words. "You're in circles, loops. It's a cycle you can't get out of. You're _stuck_. You can't escape your head," another deep breath, "Not unless you make it sleep by force."

She let him breathe once more, to catch himself before he stumbled involuntarily, completely.

"Who am I to take that one escape from you?" He then finally returned her gaze, "Your only hope?"

Their eyes locked, and she stared.

She could see it, how tired Ivor was. Even though he tried to pass of his dialogue as casual conversation, she knew where those words came from. She only needed to look once, to hear his ragged breath and stutters and how quickly he spoke, and it was all there.

His eyes were dull, what might have been blue or black was now covered completely by shade and dim lights and tears; all they did now was function. Let him see what was in front, in front of _him_ , all the objects of his love and misery and frustration and fear. Words, equations, memories, etched into his vision and refusing to escape, clouding and flooding his head, coming back like the unwanted noise it was. The red bleeding into the edges of his sclera like tentacles; the dark, heavy bags under his eyes; and his messy, long hair, that screamed "I give up" – she could see all of it.

...No, it did not scream.

It just cried.

Said.

To Jesse, it was like looking in a mirror.

Before it could get awkward, her eyes drooped, and muscles relaxed and brows dropped as she breathed a laugh. "Yeah, I can see where you're coming from. Don't worry about it."

That was enough of a beckon for him to continue.

"I'd definitely talk to you though."

His voice was softer this time. "I wouldn't talk you out of it, but I'd let you be listened to. Keep you from going out crying, because-"

"Because it sucks to go out crying."

Jesse's voice was lower, almost a mumble, but it cracked, and she finally acknowledged the tears streaming down her cheeks.

She sniffled and Ivor looked down. "Exactly."

He let her cry, his hand on her back as she shook with sobs, eventually pulling her knees to her chest and closing in on herself altogether.

 _It sucks to go out crying._

She wished she died during the storm. She wished _she_ landed on the ground. Not him.

The girl shook with sobs, words already forming in her head, words that she wants to say and let out, but her breath hitches, and she can do nothing more than cry her eyes out and shake; and Ivor let her.

He said nothing, instead continuing to rub circles on her back.

There was nothing for a while. Just the two of them, quiet. The old man could do nothing but empathise, offering her softly spoken instructions so she could calm down like she wanted to.

"Just take deep breaths now," He bit his lip, "it's okay."

You can cry. I won't judge.

She took more deep breaths, agonizingly trying against sobs and hiccups. He closed his eyes, not stopping his muttering.

A few moments after, and Jesse's breaths finally slowed enough for her to get the words out.

"You know the worst thing about this?" She said rapidly, "I still want to do things, I-" She sniffled, "I still want to see my friends. I want to play, I want to explore - that's the _only reason_ I even agreed to being a part of the Order, but you know what? I'm _still_ sick! I still want to die! Despite everything I want to do, I want to sleep. There's nothing for me to be able to do. I can't get out! Everything still hurts and it sucks because apparently people _need_ me. The only other person who understood me was Reuben, but he's gone! He's been gone for years, but I-!"

She gasped for air she didn't know she desperately needed. Ivor's head snapped in her direction immediately, but she continued without notice.

"Everything sucks. Some days, I- ..I-" She blinked rapidly, new tears beginning to form and threatening to fall, "Some days, I can't work. Some days I can't bother dealing with the townspeople. My friends are drifting away and I'm still stuck wishing I wasn't even here. I'm still a kid. I haven't grown up, and I don't know if I ever will. I don't want to. I want my treehouse back. I want Reuben back. I wish Soren never lied about the Ender Dragon, then you wouldn't have made the Witherstorm. Then I'd still be-"

She gasped for air desperately, breaths shallow and quick, choking on nothing but tears.

"..No, I was never okay. I won't ever be okay. How can you be okay? I wish I wasn't here. I wish I never even existed. I wish everything would just _stop!_ " She turned to Ivor, tears continuously streaming down her face, eyes blurry. She was incoherent at this point, but he wouldn't laugh. He wouldn't point it out.

She may be nearly a century younger than him, but he understood that pain. Maybe it wasn't the same, but similar enough.

"Is that too much to ask for?"

And in cases like this, where he had no answers and all he could offer was his presence and the fact that he understood exactly what she was saying?

'Similar enough' would have to do.


End file.
